Life Worth Living
by tear-able
Summary: Aubrey is hiding from the world of pain that she has been placed in, but she is more concerned about hiding it from her friends. As she holds on to a distant past for longer, the walls of her fragile world begin to collapse around her.
1. Chapter 1

Life Worth Living

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><p>"Sweetheart, please, just-"<p>

"No!" came the agitated reply, "I'm sick and tired of listening to your pathetic excuses!"

"I'm sorry baby."

"That's what you said when mom left." soon as the words left her mouth she regretted them, but they rang true and both conversers knew it.

"I'll see you soon honey." Came a detached voice through the speakers of a small mechanical object that the girl held in her hand.

Aubrey rested her heavy head in her hands, letting the phone slip between her fingers and fall onto the thinly carpeted floor. God, she hated this. She hated how she had to have that conversation; she hated how she spoke to him but most of all, she hated the fact that the closest she would ever get to her father would be through a phone.

She leaned into a wall as though she could pour all of her problems into it—if only she pushed hard enough. She surveyed her surroundings before a poorly suppressed sob shuddered through her feeble body. How could she have fallen this far? She remembered her old home; nothing big, nothing special, but home. There was food and furniture, but most importantly, there was happiness. Aubrey missed the happiness that resided not only in her home but in her. But that was before her mother left. Then the company started to fail. And now this.

She slid to the floor, her back still pressed against the thin wall as she let the tears fall freely down her cheeks, no longer enough strength to hold them back. Her phone began to vibrate, almost as if it were mocking her—its pale, unearthly glow casting a shallow light on Aubrey's sparse surroundings; a single bed, shoddy light globe, grey walls and carpet. She let it ring out before picking it up, not bearing to even acknowledge another human being in the world.

'_ONE MISSED CALL - Angel_' read the small screen.

_Crap_ Aubrey thought, as that single name resonated through her entire body. Angel. He would be waiting for her. He probably had been for a while. It was not the first time that Aubrey had been late to practice or just not shown up at all. But it was becoming more and more regular, and Angel had noticed. Angel always noticed. She sighed as she pulled herself up to her feet, dragging them across the floor. She made her way from the tiny room into a very similar corridor. As she dug in her pocket for a key to lock the apartment's tiny door behind her, she felt her phone begin its attempts at escaping her grasp once again. She silenced it with a dismissive gesture, knowing that her hanging up would be all that Angel needed to know she was alright.

_Angel._ His name ran through her mind again. What would he think? Of course he would see that she'd been crying, but what would he do? She wished that she could laugh at his jokes and terrible hook-up lines— she really did. She knew that they were only spoken to make her laugh, even only smile. But she just couldn't bring herself to do it. How could a smile seem so much to her? Aubrey didn't know. It was as if something inside of her had stopped, the part of her that wanted to laugh and yell and be stupid. She could see that part of her inside of herself— she missed that part but somehow she just couldn't access it anymore.

Her only consolation was dance. When the music played and the lights focused on no one but her and the Latino, she was a different person. She had the chance to change whatever she wanted about herself. She could forget whatever she didn't want to remember and with a chance like that, why wouldn't you want to take it? Aubrey missed out on practice but she had never once missed out on a performance though she knew that one day soon, she wouldn't dance at all. It was too much of a changing lifestyle to support her. She had no idea how the others coped. They of course were not drowning in the same spiralling debt that she was but that thought did not occur to Aubrey as she stepped out of the dingy apartment block that she refused to call home, and into a narrow alley.

She wouldn't walk to the studio straight from here. She would take a more winding route, leading her around the slum houses and into the more classy side of town. It is from there that Aubrey makes her way to anything. She wouldn't be able to bear if her friends knew about what was happening to her— how she was living, what she was doing to herself.

And it wasn't because of the shame or disgust that she knew would come from them—it was because she didn't want them to worry. Of all things, Aubrey was most independent. She couldn't have someone worrying about her, even though she needed it dearly.

That's why she acted like she did. No one worried about an arrogant, confident redhead especially if they thought that she lived in the high-class part of town. Aubrey knew that all she had to do was keep up pretences for a little while longer. Then she would allow for her world to come crashing down around her but she knew that none of her friends would be there to see it. That thought comforted her through the long hours of the day and night, both when she was with her friends or so, so far away from her.

Aubrey accelerated into a jog as she saw in the distance, a place where the neon lights did not blink in such a menacing manner, but rather beckoned to her in a way that somehow reminded her of a place that was so much better than the one she was in now. She felt as though she was always running nowadays. Running from her father, running from her problems, running from her friends. She could no longer bear it. But she knew that if she stopped running, there would be nothing to live for. She just wished there was something for her to run to, cause if she didn't find it, she'd just stop. She wished there was something that made her life worth living.

**Ugh, God, ew.  
><strong>**But ohwells.  
>review, tell me what you liked and disliked<br>I appreciate anything :D  
>And I apologise for the sketchy story so far, it will get better *hopefully*<br>This was rushed, but ohwell.  
>thanks for reading <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Angel's POV**  
>The harsh sound of metal on metal resounding through the much-loved townhouse was the only thing that could have roused the Latino from his deep slumber on that day. Angel lazily rolled over to wave vaguely in the direction of his less beloved alarm clock, to no avail. It continued its infernal ringing. Sighing in defeat, he rubbed his face viciously in an attempt to rid the drowsiness from his eyes. He gazed unseeingly at his clock until something significant dawned on him. <em>The time. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no, no. <em>He was going to be late. He allowed himself to flop back into the pillows that lay scattered around his bed before rolling out of the warmth and comfort that held him prisoner. He glanced at his phone. No messages. No missed calls. He was checking for the time, of course. A cool guy like him wouldn't be seen actually checking his phone to see if people talked to him. He worked to no one's agenda, they worked to his. He wasn't disappointed at all by the fact that Aubrey hadn't asked him where the hell he was. She probably wasn't even there yet anyway.

With a dejected sigh, he pulled himself out of his room and slouched into the kitchen, only to gaze longingly into the fridge. Nope. Nothing appeasing there. Let's try the cupboards. _Success! _ Angel thought as he cracked a half smile at the pack of muesli bars. He grabbed a couple as he picked up his trench coat from the bench and one-handedly struggled into it. Ripping into his first muesli bar, he jogged into the bathroom and ran his fingers through his hair, half-heartedly seeking to spike it. Swiping his visor from his non-existent hat and coat stand (it held only his visor, but Angel still proudly called it his hat stand), he jammed it onto his head and headed out the door.

Taking the stairs at a full pace jog and then continuing it down the street, Angel figured that he could make it to the tiny backstreet stage before Aubrey did. His legs like clockwork, he took the familiar route, taking any twist or turn that he knew would save him time in his journey. He let the sides of his coat flap open, knowing that the heads turning at his passing were not only because he was a known dancer, and that thought gave him a kind of satisfaction. Not the same kind that he would get from Aubrey glancing at him, but satisfaction none the less.

He shortened his steps as he reached the corner before the studio. Before he turned it, he put on a winning smile, raising his hands above his head to signal his victory. A roaring round of applause from.. No one. _Great.._ Angel sighed, as he saw the only living thing to greet him was an old tomcat.  
>"Just you and me, aye <em>hermoso<em>." Angel conceded as he affectionately fondled the stray's ears.  
>Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he called Aubrey. Once. Call not connected. Twice. No pick up.<br>"Third time's the charm, isn't that what they say _amigo_? I sure hope they're right." Angel confided in his newfound friend.

The cat mewled knowingly in response.  
>The ringing tones were suddenly cut off, and Angel cracked his second smile for the morning. Hiding in the shade of his visor, Angel's smiles were actually few and far between, but around Aubrey, they seemed to come out more often.<br>"She has such a way with words" he told his friend with almost fan-girl admiration.  
>Hissing in disgust at the characterful way in which Angel admired Aubrey, the cat stalked off, Angel watching his tail disappear wistfully.<br>"Don't break too many hearts okay? Leave some for me." Angel called out to the unresponsive feline.

_Tsk_ing to himself about the sort of manners they must teach cats these days, he searched for a suitable piece of disposable ammo to amuse him with until Aubrey arrived. He stilled his breathing and softened his footsteps so as to hear anyone walking past him. Not that it mattered much, the amount of people walking past the front of the studio where Aubrey was so often seen, was ridiculous. It annoyed Angel, for some reason. Not that he was jealous of course. Cool people like Angel don't get jealous. He was simply concerned for Aubrey. That girl had enough on her plate without a bunch of guys harassing her.

Finding no better way for taking out his pent up anger and energy, he flicked a rock at a wall with his foot, frowning in dissatisfaction as, instead of rebounding back, it smashed into the bricks, turning mostly into powder. Oh well. Time to find something new to play with. Checking the clock on his phone again, he wondered where Aubrey would be. The high class part of town wasn't _that_ far away from this studio, and it was around ten minutes since Aubrey hung up on him.  
>But Angel would wait for her.<br>He always would.  
>He just wished that she knew that.<p>

**Author's note:  
>So I now reward your longstanding patience with… another short chapter. Sorry about that guys<br>But thankyou so much to everyone who reviewed! I will try to get back to you in emails trough the next couple of days, but don't count on it too hard, my internet is sketchy at best.  
>I'll try to be updating soon. Or atleast, sooner than this one came out.<br>Thanks for reading guys!**


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